On the Edge of the Forest
by Dominique the Author
Summary: I must banish thoughts of such things as beauty, for while I may admire it in others; I have no time to peruse it myself.  No, I am not a princess, not even close.  I play more than one role, in more than one story.
1. Prologue

If I were a princess, perhaps then my beauty would have been sung of by bards, for they find that more coins come from songs of beautiful princesses than plain ones, and those traveling singers would never want to fall out of favor. I would be said to at the very least outshine the sun, for that kind of poetry sounds good in song. Perhaps other wonderful qualities would also have risen out of their songs too; kindness and generosity, fairness and a sharp tongue to those who are not. And just maybe, if I were a princess I could be all of that, and more. It is easy to be generous when you have so much, and even the smallest bit of kindness is noticed when you are watched by so many. There is a story going around, I do not know if you have heard it, but the bards are saying that the eldest prince's favorite pet is not one of his fine bred hunting dogs, but a stray he saw starving in the streets. He was too compassionate to let the poor animal starve. Ah, what a good king he will make!

I have been to the capital. I have seen the parentless children starving in the street.

But if I were a princess, perhaps such things would not happen. I would have a teacher to help me learn what was fair, and I would learn to hate injustice. Right now I have seen too much of the world in the few places that I have traveled to be so foolhardy as that. I try to do good to the people I see, but that is far from stopping the evil.

And maybe, if I were a princess than I really would be beautiful. I would have a flock of ladies-in-waiting who would know the best way to make my plain face pretty, and black hair might become more fashionable then blond. It might also look nicer if it was in anything but a braid, but I need to keep it out of my face while I work, and I cannot bear to cut it off, even if it is not curly and stylish. Almost as much as the tell-tale purple eyes, I feel it helps me look the part of my position.

My position that is not a princess.

Perhaps you thought that if I wasn't, then I would at least become a princess and seeing how this is a tale of the fairies, you would be just in guessing that. Just, but wrong. I must banish thoughts of such things as beauty, for while I may admire it in others; I have no time to peruse it myself. No, I am not a princess, not even close. Do purple eyes mean something different in your world?

(Admittedly, mine are not quite such a vibrant violet as I know you are thinking, although some girls' are. I am told that mine are more gray, the color of a storm above the sea. Hopefully, their expression is not also often stormy.)

Ironic that the color only royalty can wear is bestowed on the eyes of any birth, though purple eyes are just as rare as any nobility, and very likely more so.

Do you still not know me? I see that your stories are different than ours. I must speak simply. I am a sorceress.

What are the stories that have fallen on your ears? Does the air fill with the heaviness of ancient magic? Do you want to run from the evil witch?

Ah, now I have said it. That is a word you well know. Now we are getting closer. _Witch._ You think now that you have found my role in the stories. But I am no witch, and I play more than one role, as I know you do also. Be patient, young or old as you are, you must wait for the story to unfold itself. I promise that it will do so soon, and you will not be disappointed. But you must wait for a while more.

My story does not start here. We must go back before I can go forward. You may join me if you wish, though I cannot promise happiness, for you, or for me. But softly now, we are reaching the words that you know well now; so well that you may overlook their magic. Slowly now. Close your eyes and let my voice carry the words.

But how? As you clutch this aged scroll in your hands, I am not in the torch lit cavern, or grand palace library with you. Or perhaps you are in some other place. Choose your favorite, and choose well, for this story cannot be told just anywhere. Perhaps it is not an aged scroll, but a finely bound book. I cannot describe it for it must be all your own.

But you know it now. I can tell. I can feel it. Now close your eyes.

Fie! Foolish reader, and listener of my tale, I know that you need your eyes to read this script. Did you think those were the eyes that I meant? You have as much to learn about magic as I first did, unless it is more. But do not despair, for I will teach you the best that I can.

Hold tightly the finely made parchment, or whatever else that you may have chosen. This text cannot take you much farther on its own. Let the magic grow wings. Let the words wash over you. Once we enter the true story be careful to patiently spot me, for I may not be who you first expect. We are very close now.

Pay careful attention to the peculiar shimmer of magic. This is as much your story as mine now.

Hold my hand; I'm frightened too. I know even less to the end of this tale than you. Are you ready now?

_Once upon a time… _


	2. Prince Charles

_Once upon a time, the wise, evenhanded, and benevolent King Darren ruled over the prosperous, if often rainy, land of Madesco with his two sons always by his side. The eldest son, William, was as well-loved as his father and the crown jewel for the kingdom's figurative crown, but the younger of the two, Charles, was not impressive in any way. In truth, he was more remarkable in how abysmally he did in some things, than how worthy he was in others. It is perfectly fine for a younger son of a king to be perfectly average, or even below average, though, and the Prince Charles looked forward to always being a prince, for he loved his elder brother more than anyone, except, of course, for the good King Darren, who was the proudest father to ever be found._

_Things would have proceeded to continue in this peaceful manner, but for one thing; little more than a month after the old king had died, his eldest son was struck by the plague. It was a terrible and shocking thing for the entire kingdom, and particularly for the younger Charles, who had never expected the burden of the crown. Everyone's hopes had been on William, and it was he who was given the proper lessons and the practice in court. After Charles had turned twelve, it was determined that the young prince's aptitude lay in other areas, since he neglected to pay attention anyway._

_Never the less, the new king was determined to earn the peoples love. The young king had always had a good heart, though not quite as good as his brother's, some might say. He surrounded himself with the finest ministers, advisors, and philosophers as he could find, not only in his kingdom, but all the surrounding ones. Only one among them was a mistake, but he happened to be the one to truly win Charles's ear._

_At first his advice was good, but too soon he taught the new king to love power, which is never a good thing to those who have it. Charles forgot his love to his brother, and instead became seeped in bitterness at the way that everyone had treated him. So soon they had been ready to give up on him in favor of paying more attention to William. Who was to say that he wouldn't have been just as good or perhaps even a better king than William if he was given a chance? Nevertheless he did not forget that his old love was a love that his people still had. Slowly but surely, the changes began._

_He grabbed tighter control of the military, and they moved in against the people he feared, or rather, that the beady eyed philosopher had taught him to fear. First to go were the lords, and many others were with them, but our tale concerns mainly the banishment of those who could use magic. _

_One village, Galoth, lay dangerously close to an enchanted forest, and living so close to such a raw source of magic, they had to often counter it with magic of their own. There, even with purple eyes being so rare, every generation gave another sorceress to the small village, for magic knows how best protect those that it loves. When magic was legal, she would be a queen among her people, for if ever she wished to she could leave and easily make herself a better fortune elsewhere. In the capital, there were plenty of positions that could only be filled with magic, and any sorceress automatically had an equal rank to Duchess. A pretty or charming young sorceress could easily obtain a position in the royal court. However, because magic protects those that it loves, when magic users were banished, and children born with purple eyes killed, very, very few were born, and none near the king. But the people of Galoth had learned to depend so heavily on the protection of a sorceress, that they could no longer live without one. So, as always before, there was a child born with eyes deeper then violets, and she was hidden from the king's men. The only thing that had truly changed was the people's attitudes._

_While the young girl might have been a queen before, now she was little more than a slave. Instead of having to fight to keep her in the village, she couldn't leave for fear of banishment or death, depending on what mood the king was in. So, the balance of power shifted to the villagers, who became clumsier and clumsier when dealing with the forest, for they knew that they could not be refused help._

_But as the best and worst of kings do, the King Charles died, and at a remarkably young age too. As he had no heir, it looked for a while as though his most trusted advisor Bob, who he had named Most High Councilor and Most Powerful Man in the Kingdom of Madesco Only After The King,(Charles had never had a way with words) would become king, and no doubt this was his plan when he murdered the king. _

_There was, however, a most glorious revolution led by a distant cousin of the king's, who had been quietly gaining support amongst the common people and the banished lords. He had been planning the revolution for some time before the murder of the king and found that to be the opportune moment, but that is a wonderful story all its own. Bob lost his head when it was chopped off in front of a cheering crowd, and the kingdom had a handsome new king, who was everything they had hoped that the crown prince William would be. One of his first acts was to renounce all banishments made be the last king, including those of magic users. But the attitude that the small village had did not change. As you have almost certainly predicted, that is where our story goes next…_


	3. The Wrath of the Forest

"Girl," a voice called, marred by contempt, "You said it was a simple spell, so what in all of Madesco is keeping you so long?" Something in her snapped. She had no idea what she was going to do, but it would stop people treating her like this.

"Just because the spell is simple, doesn't mean that I know it," she called back in an oddly calm voice, "You made sure of that when you let the soldiers hang Mistress Pudfut, and kept me from continuing on with my training by keeping me busier than several hives of bees." She was at the bottom of the stone steps now, her hate-filled eyes staring directly at Bern's. It was hard to keep the disgust off of her face but she could not show weakness now. The pale green lumps that covered his exposed skin had started to throb unpleasantly, and she was sure they were extremely painful. "I barely have time to sleep, let alone eat. How do you expect me to have time to prepare a meal for myself, when I spend my time healing people like you?" The raw magic of the forest was reaching out to her now. It shared her anger, having also been many times wronged by this man. Her hair and shabby dress flew wildly about her person, though there was no wind, and the strength of the forest was behind her gaze.

The young woman knew what she was feeling, knew that she should calm down, but the forest would not let her. If she was not respected, then no magic would be respected, and that could not be allowed.

A wild gust of air blew the door open, and flew in a furry around the tower; instead of causing havoc, it took the unorganized mess that once was a library and put it back straight. Everything dirty was cleaned, and everything old was made new. The sorceress' filthy rags turned into flowing robes; black with intricately worked violet embroidery. A circlet of tiny amethyst flowers and silver leaves was created on her head, and the power of the forest helped her to find the right words.

"This is the power that you disrespect, that you intrude upon, that you think cannot harm you. These are the consequences you come to me to fix, instead of trying to avoid them. Why should I stay here, and put myself against the forest, instead of being allied with it. There is no law against me now, so why should I stay here when I could be welcomed elsewhere? I don't care how fertile this soil is, or how long it has been your home, you would be better off far from the forest if you cannot obey even a few rules that are only for your own survival. Do not go into the forest unprepared! Do not take what you do not need, _especially_ if it is needed by another, no matter how unimportant you think that other to be! Do you think with winter so close that those bees could have survived on what little honey you left them?"

"They're only bees," Bern muttered, in a flash she had turned, grabbed his upper arm with a force he was far from expecting, and yanked him out the door. "What do you think you're doing?" he asked, but it came out as a whimper. In her rage she said nothing, but pulled him closer to the forest.

A barricade of small trees, with trunks so close together that they formed a secure wall grew around the forest. Most people had to climb over them, but five all but jumped out of the way as Bern was pushed through. Once they had entered the shade of the forest, the trees moved back into position.

"Show me where you went to get the honey." Now that they were in the darkness of the forest, the purple stiches on her robes were faintly glowing, and she cast quite an impressive figure. They started to walk, slowly at first, and then quicker, as Bern's desires to get back into the afternoon light of the village were realized. Neither of them spoke.

Every one of Bern's steps crunched loudly throughout the forest, but the young sorceress glided silently. As the slightly lost man stopped yet again to make sure he was on the right path, she lifted up the hem of her robes, and peeked at her feet, which were now covered in delicate slippers, made of the same material of the robes. She smiled to herself; whatever else that the forest may be, it certainly was thorough.

"We're here," Bern announced quietly some time later. She surveyed the scene with a steady eye. Bern had been just as thorough as the forest had, in a completely different way. The branch that the hive had hanged on was lying splintered on the ground, with the tree oozing its clear life-blood. The part of the bee's home that did not hold honey was also splintered on the ground, and all of the young plants in the area had been trampled in the attempt to get away from the fierce stingers.

A few choice words under her breath healed the tree and gave it strength to quickly grow a new branch, helped the bee's hive to repair itself, and be filled with honey. As if they had been called, the bees took this as the signal to return. Bern shuddered as they passed him, but did not move. Soon, the only sign of the damage done was the stings that remained on the foolish man.

The journey back to Galoth was quick, and once there the young woman turned back to Bern.

"Return to me in one week, and I will heal what is left of the stings." For the first time in her life she was not addressed by 'girl', but by her full title; a term of respect.

"Yes, Sorceress Naline."


	4. Three Days

_Ah, I thought that you might guess that, but I am not Naline. Our stories are intertwined, but not the same. Have you missed me? Is that why you guess at me where I am not? Well I am honored, but I will arrive when I will. I know I have said this all ready, but I will be there soon._

_Soon; it will be soon._

Her head was held high in a way that it never was before as Naline walked confidently through Galoth. If everyone could change their attitude as Bern had, then leaving the only home she had ever known would not be necessary, and although it was not always a comforting place, it was still the only one that she knew.

"Good day to you, Sorceress Naline. I hope that you have been well."

"Thank you Mistress Sara, I have been well. I trust you have been also."

Naline didn't know exactly what stories had been spread around the village, but the respect that she had now made her want to cry. So few people came to old stone tower now, not because they were scarred, but because there was no need. The ordinary mishaps did happen, but not in the magnitude it did previously. Old customs that Naline had never heard of were resurfacing, and instead of scrambling to prepare her own meals in the little time that she had, she was invited to dine in any house in the village.

The reason that she was out of the tower now had nothing to do with needing anything, but she had just desired a stroll around Galoth.

"Surely you join us for lunch?" Naline's stomach chose that moment to growl, so she nodded her consent.

After her midday meal, she made her way back to the tower. She was scarcely there for five minutes before she heard a loud rap on the door, accompanied by the loud cry of an infant. Naline hurried down the stone steps. The door opened to reveal a young mother desperately cradling a tiny baby girl.

"Help her please!"

"Nelly, what happened to her?"

"It was an accident, I swear! I'll be more careful, just please help her!" Nelly's sobbing was now almost as loud as her child's.

"I need to know what happened so that I can help her." Naline said, her voice struggling to be calm.

"There was a snake, I don't know how it got in the house, but she screamed, and I saw it in her cradle! It was a bright green; green as poison!"

"Give her to me," Naline snapped, trying to keep Nelly from seeing the alarm that spread across her face. As soon as the baby was in her arms, she muttered a few words, and the usually chilly tower filled with the warm scent of nutmeg as the baby fell asleep. "Go quickly!" she told the anxious mother, "Gather all the girls under the age of ten as fast as you can." With a last glance at her sleeping child, Nelly fled to the streets.

Everyone who heard the call helped to answer it, so it was but a few minutes until a cluster of young girls, with a much larger cluster of villagers behind them, stood in front of the tower.

"Would all of the young girls please stand side by side to form a straight line?" Naline called, and at the sound of her voice all of the murmurs spreading throughout the crowd stopped. Mild pandemonium ensued as each girl struggled for a place in line. Once they were settled, she walked from one end of the line to the other; passing some girls by quickly, and stopping for a long time to stare into a girl's eyes. Some looked away, and some stared back, but the sorceress traveled on, until, close to the end of the line, a young girl stood with a tangled mess of black hair that looked as though it had never been brushed, and eyes the color of a storm over the sea.

Yes reader, you have found me.

I remember the day well, though it was long ago. There I was; a child of just six years, afraid of nothing, and determined to stare down a sorceress. At long last, her face twitched from grave to amused, and she let out a laugh like bells ringing.

"This one will do. What is your name child?"

"My name?"

"Yes, your name. What is it?"

"I don't have one." I replied stubbornly. That was of course, not true, but I had never really liked my name, and part of me hoped that she would give me a new one. I'd always thought that her name was so pretty.

She laughed again, and I decided that the sound of her laugh was even sweeter than the sound of her name, so I forgot to be indignant that she was laughing at me. She held out the free hand that was not cradling the baby, and I took it.

"Where are your parents?" she asked, and I was about to say that I didn't have any of those either, but they were already walking quickly towards us, so I said nothing. "Is this your daughter?" she asked them.

My mother nodded and my father tried to stare the sorceress down in much the same way that I did, with less luck. Naline sighed.

"You come along too, then." She told them. The rest of the village watched as Nelly, my parents, the sleeping infant child, the sorceress, and I walked into the old stone tower.

Nelly was worried, my parents confused, and I don't know what Naline was thinking.

I was excited.

Naline surveyed the small group as I did my best to pay attention and be good. It was hard because, while I absolutely adored the sorceress, the tower was full of the most interesting things that I had ever seen. I rocked from my toes to my heels, enjoying the sensations of the smooth floor. Naline spoke first to Nelly, though her voice told us all to listen.

"The venom of the snake that you described works extremely quickly, and so I put your daughter into an enchanted sleep. While she is in my arms the venom will not be able to spread, and that will give us time to brew the antidote." She still looked worried, but I didn't know what. I wanted to ask, but I didn't. "It would be quite impossible for me to brew the potion while holding a child, so that is why I have taken on an apprentice earlier than usual." That was me! I was going to be a sorceress! I looked around the room to see how the others were taking this news; Mistress Nelly and my mother looked worried, and my father was scowling.

"Will she be able to make the potion?" Mistress Nelly wanted to know.

"Her eyes are more gray than violet!" my mother exclaimed.

First Naline addressed Nelly. "She will be able to make it; it is a very simple potion, and I will tell her exactly what to do." Then she turned to my mother, "Her eyes are purple enough. We will discuss this later, but for now we must start the brew."

"But then what's wrong?" I burst out, "If I can make the potion, and the baby won't die, then why are you worried?" Every eye was on me, and my father tried to shush me, but Naline answered my question.

"The antidote takes quite a while to make. Three days, in fact. And the baby will only sleep as long as I stay awake."


	5. Simply Life

My parents said that they would only get in the way if the stayed, but promised to visit the next day to be sure I wasn't homesick. My mother had a determined look in her eye that meant that she had one of her plans, but they left before I could ask what it was. Mistress Nelly chose to stay, and went up to clean one of the old and dusty rooms, and to make it fit as a bed chamber. Naline said that after everything was done, and Mistress Nelly left, then it could be my room.

We had set at making the potion right away, because it wouldn't be too long before Naline was paying dearly for every moment. It was very simple; there were only five ingredients, four of which could be added to the boiling water just as they were. The fifth was an herb that had to be chopped finely, and a pinch of it added every hour, after which, it had to be stirred once. It was even easier when Naline added a magical timer that made a low whistle just before I had to add and stir. It was so easy, that Naline had me start another brew; a Wake-Up potion. That one was more like candy then magic, and the main ingredients were mint, sugar, a little vanilla, and a powdered bark from some tree or other. That one was simple too: add the mint and vanilla to some water, and after it started to boil, slowly add the sugar, and the powdered bark, stirring occasionally. The result was more like taffy than anything else, and the mint had soon chased away the lingering sleepy odor of nutmeg. While I worked Naline told me stories, and anything I wanted to know.

"Is it bad that my eyes aren't as purple as yours are?" was my first question.

"What some people don't know," she replied, "is that every eye color means something, even though violet eyes are the only one that always stays true. Green eyes seek truth, blue eyes love happiness, brown eyes show compassion, and black eyes are determined. You know that violet eyes show magic and the brighter a purple they are, the more power you are likely to have. Do you know what grey eyes show?"

"No."

"They show wisdom. While you may have less power, you will have wisdom, which is sometimes more important. I think it is likely that you will learn quickly, and be able to perform many trickier spells. So to answer your question; no, it is not bad. Magic knows how to best protect those that it loves, and I suspect there will be a time when we will need your guidance." I thought about that for a while, and the nodded, satisfied.

"Tell me about who can use magic, besides us."

"Well, you know that any girl born with violet eyes becomes a sorceress…"

"Can boys become sorcerers?"

"I don't believe that it has happened. Boy's do have the opportunity to become wizards, if they so choose. It takes a great deal of studying magical theory to be able to manipulate it, and most wizards never get close to the power that a sorceress has. There are some wizards who are never able to use magic, and the often become philosophers, since they have already done so much studying."

"Can girls become wizards?"

"Yes, but not very often." When I was older she explained it further, or at least her opinion on it; magic knew how best to protect those that it loves, and with women never having as many opportunities as men, the magic had to give an extra push to ensure that women would have the right to magic. Since men would have the opportunities to study magic, they would not need to be given it directly.

"What about witches?" This was what I really wanted to know, and the mere mention of the word sent shivers down my spine. Like all the children that I knew, I had been told that if I was bad, then the witches would come and get me. It had never really made sense, because I thought that the witches would really like the bad children better than the good ones. I still did what I was told when presented with the threat of witches.

"Witches are people who have become so obsessed with power, or wanted so desperately to harm that it has changed the core of their being. They work entirely through potions and cannot cast spells, though some can hypnotize."

"What happens if a sorceress or wizard becomes a witch?"

"It is rare, but can happen." That was all that she said on the matter than, and I never brought it up again.

Just then, my mother came in with a few of her closest friends. She was looking slightly harried, but mostly pleased with herself.

"Mistress Abrianna! What a surprise!" From Naline's voice I could tell that my mother's visit was indeed a surprise, but not an unwelcome one. "And Evelyn, Keelin, and Iona, what brings you here?"

"If it is alright with you, Sorceress Naline, then we, and some of the other women in the village, would like to bring you your meals, and some good, strong, hot tea now and again, so you'll have one less thing to worry about, while all this goes on." Aunt Evelyn made a wide sweeping gesture with her hands, so that she would be sure not to forget anything. I waved at her when her graceful hand swept by me. She was not really my mother's sister, but didn't have any children of her own, and would always pay me special attention when she came to visit Mother.

"Oh let her have some tea with up with us," she would beg on my behalf. "She'll be good." This was my cue to make my eyes big and innocent. Mother would dramatically agree, and then we would giggle. I would be on my best behavior; being seen and not heard, just liking the sound of their voices, no matter what the topic was.

"I would appreciate that very much," Naline sighed gratefully. She had clearly been worried about the details that I was too young and excited to notice. I ran up to give Mother and Aunt Evelyn hugs, before going back to stir the potion.


	6. Questions

Mother and the other village women proved to be almost as faithful as Naline's magical timer. They brought hot tea every hour, and food every four. Really, this was slightly over zealous, but the tea kept both Naline and I from being tired, and I think that it helped Mother to have something to do so she wouldn't worry.

The Wake-Up potion was soon finished, or so I thought. It had actually only finished brewing, and it still needed to sit for a while. Naline instructed me to take the taffy-like substance, and to let it cool on a sheet of scrap parchment. It turned out I was more right than I knew when I said it was like candy, because after it cooled it hardened into true candy. Naline let me take the first piece. It was better than any of the sweets that came from the city; it tasted like winter does, when the sun is shining, and it's not too cold. I swished the candy around on my tongue, feeling like I had just woken up on a festival day, and could hardly wait for the sun. It was midsummer, and the sun had finally set on the longest day of the year, but the bonfires were only starting, and I begged my Father to let me stay up, with Aunt Evelyn and Mother egging him to take my side.

Naline was smiling at me. "How was it?" she asked.

"Is it always like that?"

"No, magic is always very different and different for different people. Everything matters with magic, from the season that mint leaves grew, to the person working the magic, to the thoughts you think while working a spell." Naline stared hard at me, willing me to understand. "That is your first and most important lesson. Give me a piece of the Wake-Up. Let's see what it says about you." I silently handed over a generous sized square.

"Can you learn to tell what person worked a spell by the feel of it?" Naline laughed and clapped her hands. Well, really, she clapped one hand against the other, whose arm was cradling the baby.

"Good girl! Yes, you can, but it takes a bit of practice, and you need to know a person very well. You and I will be able to know each other's magic very well, most likely." The timer whistled, and I ran from my place at Naline's feet to tend to the antidote. Coming back, I changed the conversation again, this time asking about the infant in her arms.

"What's her name?" I asked.

"I believe that it's Audrea. But since we're on the subject of names, I do believe that you need one." There was a twinkle in her eye when she spoke, and even then, I guessed that she knew of my lie. "What shall I call you?"

"You pick something," I told her, certain that anything that she came up with would be prettier than my imagination.

"Maeve, then, and may you live up to the name."

"Maeve." I savored the flavors of the name as I had savored the Wake-Up, and then said it again; as a six year old's war cry to the world. "I am Maeve!" I had a name even more beautiful than Naline's, and I was going to be a sorceress. I could take on anyone.

Just then, Aunt Evelyn came with tea and a wonderful smelling carrot soup. The smells were intoxicating, and I found that, despite what I had said about the excess of food, the last thing I had eaten seemed ages before.

"Certainly you'll join us?" Naline asked her.

"I really shouldn't, but of course I will anyway." She declared, setting the tray on a stool, and settling her plump body on floor next to me. She dished up the soup into three different bowls, and I started in on mine right away. It tasted magnificent, but burned my tongue, and I slowed down to take careful sips like Naline and Aunt Evelyn.

"Your second lesson," Naline announced, "Will be to find magic in the ordinary. Pretend that this soup is a magical brew. Taste it like you did the Wake-Up. What can you tell me?"

"Mother always makes carrot soup when she's happy, so it makes me happy…" I started, and Naline beamed at me.

"See? Already we found something important. For you, magic is about memories."

"What is it for other people?"

"Like I said before, everyone is different, so it really could be anything."

"What is it for _you_?" I pressed.

"Colors. I associate everything with a different color."

"So, when you tasted the Wake-Up you felt..?"

"I remembered a conversation that I had with Sorceress Pudfut that lasted all night. I told you; the person who makes the charm has the main effect, though the user has some too."

"Oh." I was confused, and it clearly showed through to my face.

"Don't worry about really understanding it yet," Naline told me, "It's really something that you learn more from experience."

I had just one more question; "Am I the only one with memories?"

"No, but you're the only one who will ever be exactly like you." Aunt Evelyn, who had been watching us interact with a mildly amused expression, then asked a question of her own.

"Is it possible for someone without magical abilities to tell the difference between spells?"

"Probably," Naline replied, thinking hard. "I know that some spells can only be seen or felt by another magic user, but it's really the same thing as noticing the difference in someone's voice, or cooking, or stitching, so there shouldn't be a reason why not." Aunt Evelyn nodded, apparently satisfied, but I wondered why she had asked.

As you have probably noticed, Reader, I have always been full of questions. Naline sometimes said it was the reason I was a good sorceress, and other times it was the reason I was a bad one.


	7. Strength and Love

I was able to catch small bits of sleep on between stirring, so I was able to stay fairly well rested, but Naline could not have the same relief. She stayed calm and patient, but I could tell that after the first full day each hour became a strain, and then each minute was hard after the second. The Wake-Up kept her from sleeping, but, after so long, it couldn't keep her from craving sleep. I determinedly stirred the antidote every hour; I was not going to be the one to make her try to last another three days because the potion was worthless.

Soon, she didn't talk much, or smile at all, but her tired eyes had a fire in them that I had never seen in anyone before. She just stared straight ahead, as if there was something that only she could see. Perhaps there was.

It wasn't quite the third day when she was no longer able to sit and stay awake. Tears actually streamed down her face as she forced herself to stand, and walk in slow circles around the room to stay awake. Her eyes stayed strong, but there was despair in them too. I didn't know what to do; she was already constantly sucking on the Wake-Up, and it seemed, fighting for every second.

We were no longer alone. Mother, Aunt Evelyn, and Mistress Nelly were always with us, muttering encouragement, and doing what they could to keep her awake.

"When the antidote is done," she had muttered sometime before, "She needs to swallow two spoonfuls. Once the sleep is lifted she will have only a few minutes, so get the potion in her as soon as possible."

There was an hour, just an hour, left but she was already so tired.

"You've gotten so close! Don't give up yet!" It was only the sort of thing that Aunt Evelyn had been saying all night, and morning now, but Naline's head turned toward me.

"Is it worth it? Is it really worth it?" she whispered.

"Yes. Yes it really is." The sorceress heard my voice waver, and looked into my eyes. I was really scarred now. No longer was this an exciting adventure, and no longer was I overjoyed about being picked out of the whole village to help. Now, every part of me had gone solely into hoping that Naline was strong enough, and wishing that there was something I could do.

To me it seemed ages, and to Naline it probably seemed longer, but time went on. The magical timer rang a final time. I stirred one last time. When Iturned around I saw that Audrea was in her mother's arms, and Naline was collapsed on the hard stone floor.

Two spoonfuls were forced down the infant's throat, though they were burning hot. The babe cried, but there was something natural in the sound, something tamer than the raw shrieks of pain accompanied by the snake bite.

Naline was moved back to her bed and Mother took me home, and for a little bit there were no sorceresses in Galoth; only weary sleepers.

I missed dawn that day, but not so much of the morning as Naline did. It was far into the afternoon when she awoke, and then all she did was eat some leftover soup, and store the antidote safely away. Hopefully, it would not be needed again, but never would it be needed to make it again.

On the day that she truly woke up, she joined us for the midday meal and to debate the manner of my training with my parents. I greeted her with a hug instead of the proper curtsy, and she laughed in surprise, life coming into her still weary eyes.

"Master Kord, Mistress Abrianna." Naline gave a deep nod instead of a curtsy.

"Sorceress Naline." My father returned in his deep voice. He was one of the three men in the village who did not farm; choosing instead to inherit his father's position as a trader. He went from the village to the capital to sell the crops the village did not need for other staples and novelties. He was honest and fair, but quiet and stern, and gone too often for me to really know him then. I was young and small enough to believe that he was tall, though this was not as true as he might like. He was lean, and that did make him seem taller, and his face was long too, most notably his nose that seemed to stretch on for miles.

My mother stood beside him, serving as an opposite. Her pale skin to his tan, her black tresses to his blond, and her nervousness to his unbreakable calm. At first glance I looked more like her; my hair and skin were the same color, but my features were closer to Father's. My nose was not as beak-like as his, but it was nearly as long, and my lips had a pretty shape, but were still thin like his. I did not have Mother's high cheek bones or her dainty blush; when I was embarrassed my whole face showed it. I did have her grace, but it was not natural, instead the clumsiness was trained out of me from an early age.

Over our meal, the adults discussed my future while I listened idly. It was customary for the next sorceress to start training after reaching ten summers, but since I had already discovered, embraced, and practiced my future life it was uncertain whether I should wait or not.

"She's too young, what if she can't control it?"

"But what if she isn't trained, and decides to experiment? She could kill herself!"

The dispute ragged on and on, with the constant switching of sides. First Naline was worried about what would happen if my training was unfinished like hers, but then she wondered if I would have the patience to withstand the strictness of training. Mother was worried about me trying spells on my own, but also about everything else. Father said nothing; he would not choose a side until he was sure it was the right one, and with all the points being made, it turned out to be a confusing decision at least. I was too soon interested in only my corn bread, but when I was older, and feeling lost, I always turned to those moments.

Naline never made the point that it would be better for the village if there were another sorceress, or that it would be easier on her if she had more time to worry about teaching, and Mother never said that she wanted me to stay or leave because it would be easier for her. No, it was all about me; Sarah, Maeve; daughter, apprentice; just one little girl who was loved.


End file.
